


Underwear

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"McKay, those things were like the bugs from the Mummy. I'd do more than just scream a little."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underwear

"Somewhere, there is a small party of deities laughing hysterically at all of us." Rodney's pretty philosophical about it, by now, so there's a distinct lack of shrill hysteria in his voice. He thinks it makes a nice change, actually. He's certain his blood-pressure prefers it, which mean certain draconian doctors will possibly not take entire gallons of blood. "Maybe not a party. Maybe only one deity. But there's definitely laughing. Lots and lots of -- ow, not so hard -- laughing."

Behind him, Sheppard is probably rolling his eyes or maybe blowing out a long-suffering breath. He does that, particularly when it's Rodney who's annoying him. Or maybe not; Rodney can't see him, after all, and it's not good to theorize without some sort of data. Memory isn't necessarily reliable data.

Besides, it might take too much effort to work both his body _and_ his mind, and right then, Rodney prefers the mind go fallow. He should probably tell Sheppard: it's the one and only time he's more interested in brawn.

"There could be beer," he continues, dreamily. "Lots and lots of -- okay, do you cut your nails?"

Sheppard makes a growling noise that's mostly drowned out by the sound of Rodney's pants and boxers ripping right along the seams, the tattered remains floating to the ground. It's the kind of thing that usually warrants a shout and a long, long, thorough lecturing, but Sheppard abruptly has his hand on Rodney's _ass_ , rubbing briskly, and Rodney's mind fractures.

"Oh, god." It's really too bad his autopilot is to continue talking. "Oh, god, it's on the rest of me, isn't it? It's spreading, I thought you said you could contain it in time -- "

Sheppard growls again, low and creakingly rough. "I am containing it! It's just -- christ, you're turning _red_ , McKay."

Never tell a hypochondriac that his hypochondriac fears are coming true. It leads to bad, bad things like Rodney completely freaking out and going blank for an unknown number of moments, coming back to find his face buried in Sheppard's chest, Sheppard's hands moving far less briskly but still _moving_ over his back and shoulders, and the uncomfortable feeling that he's done something stupid like shrill, uncontrollable screaming or even crying.

His throat really hurts. And his eyes sting.

"Okay," Sheppard's saying, low and oddly soothing despite the awkward discomfort. "Okay, it's okay, Rodney. They're all off."

"I'm not allowed to mock your fear of bugs ever again, am I?" he says thickly. His knees feel shaky and hollow like it's only the fact that Sheppard's easily bearing his weight, strong arms clenched tightly around his back, that keeps Rodney upright. "They're gone?"

He sounds like a querulous, tear-stricken child and can't really seem to care right then.

"McKay, those things were like the bugs from the _Mummy_. I'd do more than just scream a little."  
  
Oh, hey, so he hadn't cried. That's good to know. "R75. I think. From the Gamma site."  
  
"Whatever they are, they're gone, okay? They're all gone."  
  
Sheppard is warm and close and his hands haven't stopped stroking Rodney's naked back and his naked ass and -- he's naked. Really, really naked, and Sheppard is fully clothed, yes, but there are things even Rodney can pick up on without a neon-bright primer: like the fact that Sheppard does not wear his gun on his belt. Ever.  
  
Rodney has never expected John to be happy to see him, though. Ever.  
  
He lifts his head up just in time to catch Sheppard's as his comes down. Rodney's lips are probably bruised from the force of Sheppard's kiss, hard and tight like he's going to take all the fear and worry right out of Rodney, leaving nothing but a different kind of trembling.  
  
"I still think they're laughing," Rodney says once he pulls himself away to breathe. There's a laugh trembling in his voice, and he's not going to let anyone say differently. It's laughter. Really. Because Sheppard's got his hands on Rodney's ass _again_ , only this time his eyebrows are proving their independent-being status as they do something crazy and a little endearing as he attempts to leer at Rodney.  
  
"Wanna laugh with them?" Sheppard asks.  
  
"That is the worst pick up line I have _ever_ heard, and for that you have to suck me off before I'm letting you near my ass, understood? Sheppard, I said, do you -- oh. Oooh, okay. Yeah. Um. Oh, wow. All because of the bugs?"  
  
Sheppard pauses long enough to give him a dark glare, then uses his teeth. Just a little.  
  
"Shutting up, shutting up!" Rodney babbles. Even if he really does think there are gods laughing at him: it takes _bugs_ for him to finally get John Sheppard? Forget laughing; they're _howling_ with merriment.  
  
Rodney really hopes he gets to join them.


End file.
